


by the harbourfront

by hoverbun



Category: League of Legends
Genre: M/M, lightsbane & dark waters AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 07:23:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21071087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoverbun/pseuds/hoverbun
Summary: A drowned man of Bilgewater interrogates a sorcerer who reminds him of the walking dead.





	by the harbourfront

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted as one of my oneshots in the coloratura collection, i figured this could work nicely as its own thing - mostly because i'm thinking of more lightsbane and dark waters ideas!
> 
> thank you as always for reading!

It is not in Karthus' best interests to stare through his captor like an ocean's horizon, shrouded in mist. That is to say - he watches him with interest for passing moments, then distant unfocus, alike to losing your thought. The other man does not seem to notice the empty stare, instead flipping open one of the three tomes from Karthus' bag, currently spread across a table to the left of the damp hovel he has been bound in.

Or maybe he _does_ notice, and doesn't care. Or maybe he _does_ care, and is thinking of what to do. This Bilgewater mage seems the type to hide more than you suspect. Such people are very difficult to work with.

"Where did you find these?" He eventually asks, looking up at the death bound mage while tapping an open tome. Karthus offers nothing. "It was _certainly_ not on the ocean. Magic such as this does not exist among the ilk of this city."

The silence is marked by one of the armed blood mages to Karthus' right shifting her stance, knives moving against her body, with the decorative steel of her robes clattering against itself. Karthus' own pauldrons have been stripped from him, resting only in dark robes of travel - so he finds the decorations tacky.

The water magic fused to the leader's cloak stirs, like a furious tide. That takes Karthus attention for a moment again.

"I will be _relieving_ you of these tomes regardless of your answer - perhaps if you give us the detail where such dark magic was discovered," he pauses to close the book. "I would spare you long enough to bring us there."

He shrugs. Gold pauldrons glimmer in the lamp light of the cove. "But if not, I'll just dispose of you now."

Karthus finally speaks. "You will be unsuccessful in your attempt upon my life."

The other man is visibly bewildered. "You know this _how?"_

Karthus adjusts how his bound hands rest in his lap, strapped from the elbows. "You will fail; that is all. My influence of death is limitless."

He watches the man glance towards the other mages beyond Karthus; vision - even with his eyes consumed by ocean blue, there is a haze of white within the center, a pupil lost at sea. "Is it, now."

"If you require a provided example, then I request release from my bonds."

"I'm not exactly _inclined_ to release you with threats like that."

Karthus glances down at his hands. Dark purple light emits from withing his closed palms. "I see."

A sweep of a dark curse casts across the room, light snuffed from the candles like a violent wind through open windows - a sharp sound pierces the air, but no screams come, only the drop of bodies, faces contorted to shock and unprepared horror from death's touch.

"What did you _do?"_

Karthus lifts his head, staring into the darkness before him - a candle is illuminated once more, the colour of sea water. His captor stares at him over its hue. Karthus shares an equal stare of surprise.

"You_ withstood_ such magic?" he asks.

"No, it's more like..." the other man looks to the ground. Karthus notes the scent of sea water is more - pugnant. "... whatever. How did you do that? What did you do?"

"I requested release to demonstrate my ability," Karthus replies, while continuing to work at the tied bonds. "I did not _require_ it, however." 

Silence takes both men, as Karthus finally loosens one hand and unites his other. He smiles in the dark. Only his captor can see.

"I request the return of my tomes," Karthus says.

The other man stares at him in the shadow of the remaining candle. The apprehension is inlaid with curiosity, but the man doesn't betray his caution with careless indulgence. He does move as Karthus roams the room - perhaps for the best. "What's your name?"

"Karthus," he replies, curt and clear. "Your own?"

Further silence, marked with deeper confusion. Karthus stands, and returns his tomes to a bag that lays upon the table beside them, above the bodies of one of the blood mages; a body twisted and drained.

"Vladimir," the man eventually states.

"So long as you will not bring harm upon me, Vladimir, your company will be permitted."

"And you're fine with this?"

"You understand the ability I possess. I do not believe you would risk your life a second time. As well," Karthus smiles in the dark once again. "Do you not wish to know the origins of death's magic?"

As Karthus steps over another body to search for his armour, he hears the breathing of Vladimir. It is far more calm, though not without the reason and caution. "I thought most tomes were destroyed by the Paladins for Valoran."

"Knowledge cannot eradicated by holy knights." His hand brushes a familiar groove of metal. "Do you wish to follow me? I would enjoy the guidance to the exit of Bilgewater."

He directs his smile in Vladimir's direction. His frown does not falter. But he exhales.

"Fine."

"Do you mourn the loss of your company?"

Vladimir shrugs. "I didn't like most of them, anyway."


End file.
